


Breath of Life

by dljensengirl88



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-03
Updated: 2015-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-21 02:56:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3674835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dljensengirl88/pseuds/dljensengirl88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Can fairy tales come true? Dean thinks so. When the arrival of his new little brother or sister doesn't go so smoothly, he gets his chance to find out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breath of Life

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: This is wee!chester, pre-series and I suppose a bit of AU since we didn't see life right before Sam was born. I wasn't trying to write fluff, but be warned, it's got that going on too.
> 
> *** denotes brief flashback.

“Look!” Dean exclaimed. “I’m a cowboy, Mommy! This is my horsey! Look at me!”

“Dean, honey, give Mommy the broom, ok? I really need to clean this up.”

Mary placed an exhausted hand on one hip as she blew hair out of her eye and swept the back of her hand across her brow. She was past her due date and was determined to do whatever she could to get things moving along already. She knew activity was just what the doctor would order. After all, this wasn’t her first rodeo.

She had set out to clean the whole house from top to bottom, and Dean had insisted on helping in the beginning. And in the beginning, he had been a great help, picking up things from the floor because he knew it was hard for his Mommy to do it. Even vacuuming the carpet as best he could, though Mary knew she’d be going back over it all after Dean was otherwise occupied.

He was a great help. Until he got over eager earlier in the kitchen, resulting in the mess that now needed sweeping.

***Proud of himself for helping, Dean had wanted to do more. He stood on the chair next to Mary while she washed dishes wanting to dry them for her. Even though Mary was reluctant, it was hard to look into those eager green eyes and deny him the chance to be the big boy he was always trying to prove himself to be.

Mary let him help, watching him with a careful eye as he dried each fragile dish and placed it in the drain. He was doing so well that Mary forgot for a moment that he was only 4 and when she looked away, the crash at her side quickly snatched her back to reality.

“I’m sorry, Mommy!” Dean cried, the tears already welling in his eyes. “It fell! I didn’t mean to do it!”

“Shhh,” Mary soothed. She sighed as she looked at the shards scattered across the tile. At least her oldest baby was standing safely on the chair and couldn’t get cut. “It’s ok, angel,” she said, brushing the fine hairs of his head out of his eyes. “Mommy will take care of it.”

“I’ll help!” Dean suddenly brightened, holding his arms out like Superman to leap from the chair over the broken bits of plate. “I’m Su-perman!” he shouted as he soared through the air.

“Dean!” Mary gasped, grasping for the boy too late to stop his flight. He was a little too quick for her these days, ever since her belly started to grow beyond her feet.

Dean hurdled safely over the broken plate and turned to grin proudly at his mother. “I did it, Mom! See? I can help!”

“Wait, baby!” Mary called as Dean ran from the kitchen. She wasn’t sure at first what he was thinking as she looked first at the mess on the floor, then out after her son, trying to decide which she had the stamina to pursue first.

“Ugh. Ba-by,” Mary whined, as she chose to first go after her little superhero. “Mommy’s tired right now. Aren’t you tired? I think we need a nap,” she spoke as she followed the sounds of little feet.

“I also think we need to get you into preschool,” she had muttered to herself as she looked around to locate the buoyant boy. ***

Dean charged around the corner, galloping on the broom that was now his horse. He turned slightly as he spotted Mary, yelling, “Woah boy!” to his gallant steed. Colliding into Mary, Dean fell to the floor. Mary had seen him coming and held out her hands, palms down in front of her stomach to softly block Dean’s charge and try to grab him at the same time. “Woah! I’m sorry, Mommy! Trigger was going really fast!”

Mary stepped back, a protective hand falling in front of her protruding stomach as she reached out to help the towheaded boy who had fallen and sprawled dramatically on the floor.

“Are you ok, sweetie?”

“I’m fine! I’m a cowboy. Cowboys are tough!”

“Yes, they are, angel. But even cowboys need their rest.”

Dean frowned at the suggestion that it was time to take a nap.

“Aw, I don’t wanna take a nap!”

“Dean, you know the rules. If you want a piece of pie after dinner later, you have to take a nap now.”

Dean stood clutching his prized horse and stomped his foot, stubborn rage flashing in his eyes. “No! I don’t wanna! You can’t make me!”

Turning on his imaginary horse, Dean ran off through the living room and headed to the front door. Mary shook her head, her own motherly resolve strong after years of being tested by Dean’s occasional tantrums when told to do something he didn’t want to do.

“Dean Winchester,” she called forcefully. Stepping toward the door, she felt a flash of pain forcing her to stop in her tracks as she grabbed her stomach with one hand and bent over to brace herself on her knee with her other. She huffed loudly through the intense cramping that subsided almost as quickly as it had swelled.

Dean heard her and turned back, his hand still on the doorknob of the front door as he was about to make his escape. “Mommy?” he asked looking back, the worry in his voice evident. He dropped his hand and returned to Mary’s side, his soft fingers wrapping around her wrist, his cheek now pressed on her thigh as if to help her ride out the difficult wave. She swallowed the receding pain, and etched a smile on her lips as she saw the small face looking up at her again.

“It’s ok, baby,” she assured him, stroking his soft hair once again. The pain had been coming a little more often now and she knew the time drew near.

“Did I do that?” Dean asked quietly. “Did I hurt the baby? I didn’t mean to be bad, Mommy.”

“No, no, honey. You didn’t do it. It’s ok. It’s ok. The baby is just really anxious to see you,” she replied, trying to control her breaths.

Dean grinned, reaching out to gently stroke the unseen sibling. “I want to see it too!” Throwing his arms around Mary, Dean nuzzled into her again, whispering to the baby. “I’m gonna be the best big brother ever. I promise, baby.”

Mary smiled, one hand rubbing her son’s back while the other sifted through his hair. “Good boy, Dean. You will be a great big brother. But you need your strength. So how about that nap now, huh?”

Dean looked up at his mother with uncertainty. “By myself?”

“I’ll read you a story. How’s that?”

“Which one?”

“Ummm, let’s go see,” Mary replied. Taking Dean’s willing hand, she pried the now-forgotten makeshift horse from her son’s other hand and propped it against the wall. She led him up the stairs to his room, setting him on his bed to remove his shoes. It was actually much later than she would normally put him down, but Dean had been so determined that day to stay up and the longer he did, the more energetic he became. It was going on 3 already and she was surprised she had lasted that long herself, but now she needed rest, which meant Dean had to sleep too.

“Down you go, little cowboy. A nap will help the baby and mommy.”

“It will?”

“Yes, it will. But first, a story. How about Sleeping Beauty?”

“That’s a girl story, Mom!”

“Good thing I’m a girl, huh?”

Dean couldn’t argue with Mary’s logic, so he settled back to rest on the fluffy pillows, pulling his legs up as Mary pulled down the light blanket and sheet to cover him.

“All settled?” she asked.

“Yes,” Dean replied, watching Mary as she leaned over him to retrieve the book from the small shelf under his nightstand. “Lay down, Mommy,” he requested, patting the bed next to him.

“Of course, sweetie.” Mary walked around the bed, where there was no nightstand to get in her way, kicked off her own shoes and sat carefully on the bed, shifting up with some effort to sit next to Dean as he snuggled into her side, one arm over her lap. Mary stroked his head as she soaked up one of the final moments she would have as a mother of one. She had been so happy to become a mother the first time. Her precocious but sweet child was such a delight to her and John that they knew they had to have another one. Not just to satisfy their own desire to have these little people to depend on them and to take care of, but to make sure Dean had someone who would always be there for him, even after she and John had moved on from the world. Neither she nor John had any siblings, but they knew how unique and special the sibling relationship was. She wanted that for her children and she was so happy to be able to give it.

Mary began to read the story out loud and watched Dean as his head sought a more comfortable spot on Mary’s belly. His outstretched hand softly stroked Mary’s arm as she held the book and she read as she waited for the sound of soft, steady breaths. Hearing none yet, she continued to read. She would gaze down every so often, searching out hints that her tired preschooler was drifting off, but then she would catch the flutter of his eyelids as he blinked at the pages, and she breathed deep, continuing with the tale, wishing someone was reading to her instead.

“Mommy?” Dean shuffled, looking up at his yawning mom.

“Yes, baby?”

“Is she dead?”

Mary had been getting tired, but found herself alert again at the question. She hadn’t been thinking about the child possibly misunderstanding what was happening in the story. She looked at the colorful page, seeing the princess laid out in her sleeping chamber. Then she sifted through Dean’s hair again as she looked back at him.

“No, baby. She’s just sleeping.”

“And the prince’s kiss wakes her up, right?”

“Yep.”

“Oh, ok,” he answered, satisfied for now.

“Mommy?” Dean asked again.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I’m really sleepy now. But you don’t have to kiss me to wake me up, ok? I can do it by myself. I’m a big boy.”

“Of course you are,” Mary agreed, sitting up to drop her legs over the side of the bed. She helped Dean get resettled under the covers. “Can I kiss your forehead to help you sleep better?”

Dean thought a moment. “Well, ok. Just my forehead.”

Mary smiled, brushed hair from the boy’s forehead and carefully leaned over to place a soft kiss where the hair had been. “I’ll see you later, little prince.”

Dean turned over, tucking his hands under his cheek, eyelids softly closing as he nodded, “OK.”

Mary watched him a moment longer until she heard his breaths find a steady rhythm. Easing off the bed, she padded quietly across the carpeted floor, closing his door behind her.

She was too exhausted to do too much more at the moment. She picked up her shoes, slipping her feet into them after she reached the hallway. Then she waddled back to the kitchen to clean the broken plate off the floor, stopping when the unpredictable cramping reared again, forcing her to cling to the broom as she breathed through the pain. It was taking longer and longer to subside. It was getting closer to that magic hour. She’d tell John when he came home that he might not be going to work tomorrow.

The fatigue swept through her again as she finished cleaning up the kitchen, though not without some difficulty. She put away the broom and dustpan, eyeing the sofa, which suddenly looked really tempting in a way it never had before.

“A nap certainly couldn’t hurt,” she told herself. “It’s probably now or never,” she thought, glancing up the stairs to listen one more time for the busy boy who often made it difficult to get quiet moments like these. Feeling certain Dean was in a deep sleep, Mary carefully made her way to the sofa and slowly sank into the cushions, pulling a throw pillow over to prop under her head and another under her knees, as she laid back, resting her hands on her stomach. The kicks had stopped long ago when the baby grew too big to move so easily. She simply felt the restless shifting and she chuckled as she felt the movement under her hand.

“Soon, precious. We’ll see you soon. But Mommy needs just a little sleep, ok? Think you can let me sleep for just a little while? Then you can come if you want.” As if in response, the baby stilled and Mary patted her stomach. “Good boy,” she whispered. “And I know that’s what you are, aren’t you? Your daddy will be so happy to hear that. I keep telling him you could be a girl,” she confided to her stomach. “But don’t tell him I know the truth. That was just for you and me to know, Sammy.” Mary patted her stomach again, certain that the child was in fact a boy. She had named him not long after she found out she was pregnant. She simply knew, just as she had known with Dean. Call it mother’s intuition or whatever you want. And just as easily, she knew what their names would be; her living memorials of the parents, Deanna and Samuel, whom she had lost savagely long ago. Mary sighed. “It’s been you and me for all these months, Sammy. I didn’t even tell Dean. But you’ll be here soon and they will get to share you with me.”

Mary rested her eyes as she thought about all the great times they would have, how complete her family would feel. Four was such a perfect number -- one for her and one for John, so they could always stay a step ahead of what she was sure would be some active boys. Mary rubbed her stomach until her hands fell to her side in savory sleep.  
~~~

Dean woke up alone a couple of hours later and was startled at first as he last remembered his mom lying by his side. Then he remembered her kiss to his forehead and he relaxed, knowing that it was his parents’ routine to send him off to sleep in that way before they retired to their own room.

Sitting up, Dean looked around the comfy room, his eyes landing on Sleepy Beauty next to his bed. Oh yes, Mommy had been reading that book, he remembered. The princess had fallen asleep and couldn’t wake up on her own. The prince had kissed her lips and that was when she woke up again.

Slipping out of bed, Dean tiptoed to his cracked door to listen for his mother. He knew she wouldn’t be happy if he was up too soon and he might not get his pie, but he had been asleep a long time, hadn’t he? Dean opened the door further to stand in the doorway, pondering if he could leave.

Not hearing any noises, he walked to his parents’ bedroom. He carefully turned the knob with one small hand while the other gently pushed the door. “Mommy?” he called. Peeking in, Dean looked in but he didn’t see his mom or his dad.

His parents’ room was near the top of the stairs, which was composed of one short flight of three steps before there was a turn to go down a longer flight to the first floor. Dean perched at the top of the short flight like it was Christmas morning and he was waiting for permission to go all the way downstairs to see what Santa had brought him.

From where he sat, Dean couldn’t see the front door, but he heard it open. Heavy movements on the hard wood caused Dean to grip the railing as he listened to whomever had come in.

“Mary?” Dean heard below, smiling as he instantly recognized his father’s voice. Risking Mary’s scolding, Dean stepped down the two remaining steps of the short flight to see if he could see the front door. He caught a glimpse of his father’s jacket just as he headed into the living room.

Dean quickly hurried down the stairs to follow his father. He knew if he was going to be in trouble, his dad would protect him until everything was alright again and Mommy wasn’t mad anymore because he had been bad by getting out of bed too early.

John walked quietly into the living room when he first heard the soft snores of his wife coming from the sofa. Smiling to himself, he had snuck in to watch her. She had been so certain she never snored. John had told her the pregnancy made the sound even more profound, but Mary had slapped his arm when he said that. Now he wished he had a tape recorder to prove it to her.

Coming downstairs, Dean watched his dad as he stood over the sofa, smiling down at it. He wasn’t sure why his dad thought the sofa was so funny, but he stayed behind the wall to watch as John leaned over, grabbing the back of the sofa. Dean heard him whisper his mom’s name and Dean realized she must have been there.

As Dean stepped out from behind the wall, John looked up and smiled even more broadly at his oldest child. He had been so proud to tell the boys at the shop he was going to soon be a new dad again. There was nothing anyone could do to spoil his mood, even his sometimes naughty boy who only needed to look at John with sorrowful eyes to soften John’s resolve to keep the boy on the straight and narrow.

John pressed a finger to his lips as he looked at Dean. “Shhh,” he whispered. “Mommy’s sleeping.” John pointed toward the sofa below him.

Dean stepped over to the sofa, standing on his tiptoes to see over the arm of it where Mary laid, looking like the princess in his book. Dean looked up at John with a gleam in his eye, feeling loved and protected by the presence of his parents, sleeping or not.

John leaned over to tousle Dean’s hair. “Hey, champ.”

“Hi, Daddy,” Dean whispered back. “Mommy’s sleepy. She took a nap just like me.”

“I can see that,” John responded. “Let’s see if we can get her up and have some pie."

“Before dinner?” Dean asked excitedly.

“Why not. Let’s live a little.”

“Yeah!” Dean agreed, his face beaming now.

With that, John bent closer to Mary, softly kissing her lips once then twice before she stirred. Mary breathed in, her eyes slowly opened and a smile spread across her face as she recognized John. She lifted a hand to his cheek. “John. You’re home,” she said hoarsely.

“Yeah, Sleeping Beauty. Time to rise and shine.”

“Hi, Mommy,” Dean chimed in. “I took a nap, just like you told me.”

Mary looked over at Dean, her smile growing wider. She raised her other hand to Dean’s cheek. “Good job, baby. How ‘bout some pie?”

“Daddy said we had to wake you first,” Dean replied enthusiastically.

“Well, I’m up,” Mary said.

“Let me help you,” John offered, extending a hand to pull Mary up from the low sofa.

As she stood, Mary grabbed her belly once again. “Ow!” she yelled. John frowned, his hand moving around her back in concern. “Are you alright?” John’s worried eyes went from Mary to Dean and once they found Dean, they softened again. “It’s ok, champ. Mommy will be ok. Why don’t you go make sure her pillows are all piled up so she can rest in bed, ok sport?”

Dean glanced from Mary to John, fear growing on his face. “O-ok, Daddy. Is Mommy going to be ok?”

“Yeah, champ. She will be. You go on now, then we'll see about that pie.”

Mary leaned over as she moaned again, her grip tightening on John’s hand. He rubbed her back, pulling her to follow him. “Do you want to lie back down here, Mary?”

“No, no. Just get me to my bed,” she said. “It’s too soon to go to the hospital, but he’s coming,” she finished.

John’s eyes widened. “He?” he repeated.

Mary tossed her hair back to look at him, as she rode another wave of pain. The recognition of what she had said dawning as the pain subsided yet again. “Oops,” she breathed. “I let the cat out of the bag, huh?”

“Is it a boy, Mary? How do you know? Did the doctor tell you that?”

“No, John,” Mary sighed. “He didn’t tell me. It’s just…,” Mary shrugged as she switched to holding John’s other hand and began to pull him along toward the stairs. “…it’s just mother’s intuition. Like I had with Dean.”

At the mention of his name, Dean turned around on the stairs, where he had begun to go do as his father had asked. “You knew I was a boy, Mommy?”

“Uh huh,” Mary replied, one foot on the bottom step, one hand on the stair railing, the other in John’s clutches. She stopped to breathe through the rest of the pain as it further subsided. “I knew you were my perfect – breath – little boy angel,” Mary said, looking up at Dean.

Pleased, Dean ran up the steps to get the pillows ready while his dad helped his mom walk slowly up the stairs. And that had been the theme of the rest of the afternoon and evening – helping mom.

Mary had gone to her bedroom where the moans grew more and more intense as the hours ticked by. After a while, John had taken Dean back downstairs to get his pie and explained that babies sometimes take a long time to be born.

Dean wished this baby would hurry up. Mommy was in so much pain. His father had told him not to bother her right now, so all Dean could do was wander downstairs, playing with his toys distractedly as he listened to his dad moving around upstairs and down, getting his mom whatever she needed.

The TV had finally captured Dean’s attention for a few shows. He had become so used to Mary’s sounds that he almost didn’t hear them anymore until he heard his dad on the phone during his latest trip to the kitchen.

“Yes, doctor. They’re getting closer and closer together and every time I go to move Mary, she yells at me to leave her there. I don’t know if we can make it to the hospital….Yes…Yes, doctor. OK.”

Dean had gotten on his knees on the sofa as he heard his dad hang up the kitchen phone.

“Sorry, champ. I was getting you that pie, wasn’t I?”

“It’s ok, Daddy. I’m not that hungry anyway.”

John smiled, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he meandered to the sofa. “It’s scary, huh, Dean?” he asked stepping in front of the sofa, pulling his hands out of his pockets now to lift Dean onto his lap as he sat. “Mommy’s making all those noises upstairs and it’s scary, huh?”

Dean’s eyes grew wide as he nodded.  
John pulled the boy back to his chest, wrapping his arms around him and burying his face in Dean’s hair. “It’s ok, son. It’s all going to be ok. Mommy is going to be ok and so is your little brother.”

“I’m going to have a brother?” Dean asked, turning around in his father’s arms to look into his eyes.

John laughed and squeezed the boy. “That’s what your mother says. You know she’s very smart, so I think I believe her.”

Dean nodded. “Well, I believe her too.”

“John!” Mary yelled, startling John, who quickly shifted Dean to the sofa with an absent-minded hand through Dean’s hair. “Stay here, son.” John ran up the stairs two at a time.

Dean got back on his knees on the sofa as his eyes watered, not knowing what was happening upstairs. It felt like a lifetime of waiting for his dad to come back. He was waiting as a knock soon came at the door and his dad rushed back down to open it. A man and a woman in uniforms hurried through, carrying bags and a big bed on wheels that was low to the ground.

Dean watched as the people left the bed to quickly run upstairs while John came back to hold his son’s face in both of his hands. “It’s ok, champ. Mommy is just ready to have the baby a little faster than we thought. The people are here to help.”

John kissed Dean’s head and with another command to stay where he was, John ran back upstairs leaving his son alone, front door open. Dean stepped down to the carpet and went over to the door to look out into the darkness. He saw a big red truck in front of his house and looked from the truck to the stairs. He could hear the movement upstairs.

The sounds lured him up. He could hear the strangers’ voices, Mary’s wails and John’s assurances. Looking back at the door, Dean saw there was no one else coming in. He climbed the stairs, curious about all that was happening without him.

Dean reached his parents’ bedroom again, the door only slightly ajar.

“OK, Mary, this is it. You’re going to meet your son or daughter really soon. Do you think you can give me a big push?”  
“I’m so tired,” Dean heard Mary cry.

“You can do this, babe,” John had said.

“It’s ok, Mary,” the woman said. “You’re really close. Last time. You can do this.”Dean heard Mary grunting. He looked through the crack in the door and he saw the woman in uniform was at the bed, but he couldn’t tell what she was doing. Dean didn’t want to get in trouble so he stayed outside the door, little fingers reaching toward it in a desire to go to his mother. She sounded like she was hurt, but Daddy was telling her it was going to be alright.

“Come on, Mary, you’ve got this,” the woman said and Dean heard Mary making noises like he did when he was trying to go to the bathroom but it was really hard.  
“Almost, almost. I see the head,” Dean heard.

“Good job, Mary!” John said, and Dean looked a little more into the room then, where he could see his mom’s feet on the bed. The woman was near his mom’s feet and he wondered what was going on.

“We’re crowning, Mary!” the woman exclaimed.

“We?!” Mary shouted back.

“Come on now,” the woman said, ignoring Mary’s comment. “Push. Push!”

Dean heard Mary yell now and he tried his best to be a good boy, staying on the other side of the door when his young instincts told him to go to his mother and to go now.

“Yeah! There you go, Mary!” the woman said excitedly, pulling as Mary pushed until the baby was more than halfway out. “Coming, coming. Yeah, coming, ahhh! He’s coming!” she added.

“He?” John asked. “It really is a he?”

Mary yelled again as the woman urged her to keep going. “There we go!” the woman said. Dean could hear Mary panting now. “Lookie there, family. You’ve got yourself a son!” she said, as Dean pushed the door open now. The woman saw Dean and grabbed the covers to lift over his mom as she handed the baby to her partner.

“Hey now, you’ve got yourself a second son,” she said to John and Mary, as she turned to smile at Dean. “Hi there, little guy. Looks like you’re a big brother, huh?”

Dean stood looking confusedly at the woman as he felt his dad tugging on his hand. “Hey champ,” John said, pulling Dean toward him.

“Hi angel,” Mary said. “Come here,” she said breathlessly, reaching out to him. “I’m ok, baby.” John lifted Dean next to Mary as she extended a tired hand to his head. She pulled him to her lips as she kissed his hair. “I’m ok, baby,” she repeated, touching John’s arm now in a silent request to hold the older boy while she dealt with the matter at hand.

John set Dean back on the floor and stood next to him, one arm around his shoulders, a hand gently stroking Dean’s cheek and intentionally covering his eyes a bit while the medics worked.

“What say we go back downstairs to get some celebratory pie now? Huh, son?” John asked, patting the boy’s head.

“Why don’t I hear him yet?” Mary asked.

“Huh?” John replied, though she wasn’t talking to him.

There was some silence as Dean felt John’s hand stop stroking his hair. “What’s going on?” John asked anyone who would respond.

The medics were huddled over the quiet baby now.

“John? Go check on him, John. Why is he quiet?” Mary asked again, louder this time. “What’s going on!” she demanded. Dean drew in a breath. He knew his Mommy’s angry voice, the really angry one that meant he was about to be sent to his room or worse. Dean grabbed his dad’s hand, not sure if his mother was angry at him or not. He stepped closer to John as he looked at Mary, who was looking at the medics, so Dean glanced at them too.

“Hey!” Mary yelled. “Talk to me!”

The woman came back to the bed. “It’s going to be, ok, Mary.”

“What?” Mary replied. “What are you talking about?” She looked over at John who was clenching his fist as he silently watched the other medic over his newborn son, what looked to be his stillborn son. He didn’t think he could see that just yet. John stepped over to Mary to grab her hand, as Dean slipped his hand away from his father’s.

John put an arm around Mary, who was panting again now, this time in grief as she waited on word about her son.

“It’s going to be alright. My partner is going to get something to help us out, Mary,” the woman said looking over her shoulder to comfort the parents. John and Mary could clearly see the baby now as she explained what they were about to do. They looked at her in shock as Dean watched the scene before him.

The baby was there. His new little brother.

“Sammy,” his mother cried. “Give me my baby,” Mary demanded of the woman as she continued to grip John’s arm. The medic had resumed CPR on the baby.

“Hey, Nancy!” Dean heard the other medic call up. “Troy must have packed the van again! I can’t find it!” he yelled.

“Shit,” Nancy muttered, then looked at the family. “Vic! You need to look harder! I’m doing the compressions! Hurry up!” she ordered.

Mary, in her grief and incapacitated by the recent childbirth, was pulling on John unable to get up like she wanted.

Dean was mesmerized, pulled in to the baby, caught in an invisible gravitational field that had grabbed a hold of him. The baby was sleeping, Dean thought. That’s all. Just sleeping.  
The baby was silent on the little table as Dean pulled his mother’s dressing table chair to the table that held the lifeless bundle and climbed up to take a closer look while the medic continued her compressions.

“Hey now,” she whispered, two fingers carefully pressing on the tiny chest. “You shouldn’t be here. Go back now. Go to your mom. Go on," she urged, too busy trying to hold on to whatever life might be in her hands now to wave away the little boy who had come to see.

Dean didn’t hear her, entranced as he was by the doll-like figure. “Sammy,” he whispered. Dean looked at the tiny, white face and put a hand on the still head. “I’m going to be the best big brother, Sammy,” he said to the infant. “But you have to wake up first, ok? Time to rise and shine, Sammy.”

“Dean,” John called. “Come here, son. Let the paramedics do their job.” Dean could hear the crack in his father’s voice, but he kept his eyes on Sam. The princess woke up, he remembered. Mommy woke up, he thought as he stood on his tiptoes and leaned over the baby.

Dean closed his eyes, he wrapped his fingers around the tinier hand and leaned in further.

“Vic, hurry up!” he heard the medic yell. And in the moment she had pulled away, Dean softly pressed his lips to the baby’s drying lips and kissed him with all the love he had for his new baby brother, his little charge who he knew he would care for the best he could for the rest of his life.

“Rise and shine, Sammy,” he whispered again. Vic burst through the door, new tools in hand.

“Step aside, honey,” he said to Dean.

“Dean!” John called. “Come here, son.”

Obediently, Dean finally climbed down as Vic hurried to move the chair out of the way. Handing Nancy the tank, they prepared to do CPR once again with the added help.

Dean sadly made his way to John, who could only blink back tears as he looked at his first-born and pulled him close. The moment of misery seemed to last forever. The young family began to close in on itself.

“Wait!” Vic suddenly exclaimed. “Look!”

Silence hung in the air as all breath was sucked in just as the new life finally breathed for the first time. A wail emanated from the tiny boy and Dean looked over to see his parents staring at the medics, silent tears now streaming down their faces.

“Oh my God,” Mary gasped. “Sammy?”

Nancy and Vic looked at each other in shock, oxygen tank and other gear in hand as the baby’s pitch grew louder, his breathing getting stronger with each cry, “It’s a miracle,” Nancy whispered.

“He was dead,” Dean heard the man thoughtlessly mutter to himself. “I was so sure he was.”

“Vic!” Nancy hissed, looking over at Dean. She looked mournfully at the boy, but Dean didn’t seem to notice what her partner had said.

Dean saw his parents were smiling now. He had done a good thing waking up Sammy. He was sure. His parents would be proud. He looked at the woman as she checked the baby and then watched as she wrapped and picked up the crying child to finally carry him to his mother.  
Relief washed over the woman, extending to Mary as the medic handed the newborn to his mother. Mary eagerly grasped the bundle to her chest. “Sammy,” she gushed. John released Dean to pull her closer to him as he wrapped his other arm around his new son. “Hi. Oh my god, Sammy?” John breathed in happy relief. “Son. I’m your dad. You gave us a scare there, huh?”

John lifted the small hand to his lips as he kissed the boy, while Mary kissed John’s cheek. She nuzzled against John as she looked over at Dean. “Come closer, angel. Come say hi!”

Dean stepped cautiously to the bed. “It’s ok,” Mary said, slowly rocking the crying baby. “New babies cry. That’s how they breathe when they are born. He’s ok,” she assured her older son as he climbed on the bed next to Mary.

Dean put a tentative hand on the baby’s forehead and petted him. “It’s ok, Sammy,” he said. The baby’s cry faded as Dean stroked the velvety skin. “I’m your big brother, Dean. I’m always going to watch over you.”


End file.
